Falling Stars
by Leikar
Summary: When you found that young man on the fields, you had just wanted to help him. (Written in 2nd person from Chrom's POV. I put "Daraen" instead of "Robin" because I like the non-English name better)


Fredericks warnings were not unfounded, being the most sensible of all of them, but they were ultimately unnecesary. After the battle against the bandits in the village and the one against the risen in the woods, it was clear to you that Daraen was a trustworthy man. Emmeryn seemed to agree, much to your own relief.

The next day you parted to Regna Ferox, the snow covered neighbour country, seeking for help in the aproaching war against Plegia. On the way there, Daraen asked you why you had helped him when you found him, knowing well it could be a trap. You answered sincerely, but he didn't like how you put yourself in danger like that. You laughed softly. How many times had you been told about people who suffered sudden deaths because of that? He confessed he was scared of you safety, and begged you to at least be careful. You stared at him, surprised by his deep worry, but agreed. His sunken shoulders told you he still didn't agree with you, but Daraen just smiled and nodded, and didn't press the subject. He respected your decisions, even if he didn't agree with you.

The cold and impatience made you even more reckless than usual on the way there, which earned you a reprimand from both Frederick and Daraen. Once at your destination, the Khan agreed to help, but only if you gained her the shared throne, since she wouldn't have the authority otherwise. You accepted to help, and you waited in Regna Ferox until the day of the tournament. You trained everyday, and Daraen would join you frequently, despite his preference for magic. You were glad for his company.

On the tournament, your rival was that boy that helped you in the woods, Marth. Fittingly, he had a Falchion with him. The same you did. A sword suposed to be unique, wielded by those it chose. Seeing it, and seeing how he fought made your stomach turn in anxiety. Something was wrong, but you couldn't figure out what. Daraen tried to calm you down after the battle, but it was hard to find a way to stop the worry you were feeling in your stomach on your way back home.

One day, already back in Ylisstol, the tactician came running as if he had seen Grima itself coming from the sky. He had heard you had been attacked by someone, but you calmed him down fast. Or tried. It seemed that not even your all experience in battle was enough to keep Daraen from worrying when random thugs mistook you for a defenceless merchants. You had to restrain yourself from rolling your eyes, but then he made a good point on less honorable enemies that could take you down easily with poisong and similar methods, were you not careful. And how your army needed it's leader. You were a little embarassed for no having thought about that before, and agreed to be more careful. He stared back at you in surprised when you thanked him, when suddenly a bit shy, looking away with a soft smile on his lips and a hint of color on his cheeks. Then he said he had something to do and left as fast as he had arrived. You wondered if you had offended him somehow, but he hadn't seemed annoyed. In the end, you just sighted and left to train some more. Maybe he'd be less worried about you if you proved him you were strong enough on your own.

For some reason, you didn't think about how worried the rest of your army was too.

* * *

Emmeryn went back to the capital while you and the rest of the Sheperds went to Regna Ferox, despite you begging her to come with you, to not put herself in more danger already, with the pointless war that the Mad King had managed to start. You were frustrated and worried, and definetively not in the mood when Daraen came, -yet again- to reprimand you for doing something he considered reckless and unnecesary.

You weren't in the mood for that, and you didn't understand why he was always so worried about you. It wasn't like you were doing those patrols alone. You couldn't help let a bit of sarcams slip when asnwering him. You were at war and people needed your help.

Daraen backed down once you used him as an example of those "people in need". He kept quiet for a few moments, listening to your reasons.

"At least, let me go with you." he asked.

"So you can watch my back?" you would be lying if you said that annoyed you, but the tactitian was already busy with his own duties.

"That's part of it."

"And the other part?" you asked.

For a second, his reaction was an unmistakable surprise, with his eyes wide and his body tense, as if he hadn't expected your question at all. But he recovered fast and smiled widely at you, winking an eye; and spoke with conviction.

"That's a secret!"

You stared at him for a second, and then burst out laughing at the weird way he had answered you.

"All right, you're welcome to come with me."

You noticed the intense blush on his cheeks but didn't think much of it; he was probably embarassed by his own overreaction. It was the third time you had talked about your safety, after all.

The butterflies in your stomach you felt everytime you thought of future patrols felt strangely pleasant.

* * *

The plan was working out, like all of his, and the pegasi were more than ready to rescue Emmeryn. You felt the anticipation; it was going to work, you were going to save her, to go back home and listen to her reprimand you for risking so much; but then you'll all laugh. Because, in the end, you would have managed to rescue Emmeryn from Gangrel.

The risen apeared and shot rain of arrows and death against the pegasi.

You felt your hope desintegrate. You looked at the tactician only to find a mask of panic and disbelief. That wasn't suposed to be happening. He had to find a way out, a way to rescue her. But without the flying horses and with so many enemies around, he was unable to find a solution that would keep everyone safe.

In the end, Emmeryn chose for you. You ran and ran, trying to reach her before it was too late. But you failed. You all failed. You fell to your knees, watching the corpse that lied in front of you. Your throat was dry and you were unable to talk. You were unable to think. You were unable to comprehend what was happening. Then Basilio apeared out of nowhere and shouted that you had to go and you had to go _now_ or Gangrel would kill all of you. You tried to protest, argue that at least you should get her body and give her a proper burial. But there was no time for that, and then Daraen came, grabbed your hand and forced you to get up and run. And somehow your legs found a way to move one after the other and you ran, you all ran. Fled with you tail between you legs because you had lost, you had failed. His hand was your only anchor while you went to Regna Ferox in the darkness and the rain.

You set up camp. You were near the border and it was risky, but you had been running and fighting the whole day and part of the night you and your troops were exhausted and needed the rest. Lissa had been crying during the journey, holding to Frederick tightly, and had finally sucumbed to exhaustation the moment you stopped. You wish you could do the same. But instead you were in your tent, hands shaking, reviving the scene over and over in your head while holding the Falchion, the only thing that looked like it wouldn't snap by the force of your grip.

You fell asleep and you dreamed about Emm falling again. This time you could reach the dead body on the ground, but the moment she was on your arms, her clothes turned dark, her hair short and white and she wasnt Emm anymore, but Daraen. And somehow that made it all the worse.

You woke up shaking (but you weren't yelling, thank the gods) and got out the tent without thinking. It was still dark, but Daraen's tent was close to yours. You called him with a urgent whisper. He got out fast, whith dark circles under his eyes and a nervous look, as if he was expecting danger. You felt bad for scaring him like that, and admited you had a nightmare and wouldn't mind a bit of company. You inmediatly felt like a foolish child and blushed lightly in embarassement. But Daraen relaxed in the absence of danger, smiled, and let you in.

The strategist had some candles lit, some books opened and some sheets of paper with drawings and words writen on what looked suspiciously like an on scale model of the situation all of you had just escaped from. You realized you weren't the only one that was feeling guilty about what had happened, the only one who thought that you could have done more.

"It's not your fault," you whispered, looking at the drawings "you couldn't have known risen would appear."

He froze at your words and looked away. His lips became a thin line while he thought of something to retort with, but he knew you were right, and in the end he just sighted and let his shoulders fall.

"I guess you're right." he agreed, resignation, tiredness and sadness filling his voice. You didn't think you could feel worse, but you did.

"I've just come to think that maybe I should have died instead of her." he whispered with guilt.

And you looked at him surprised and shocked while the avalanche of terror from the nightmare came back. You grabbed his arms so strongly he winced, and he stared at you, wide eyed, confused by your reaction.

"Dont say that!" you replied, ferociously "Dont ever say that! You can't leave us! You can't die! …Please, dont die!"

You were crying again, voice cracking and practically begging while he stared in surprise. You hugged him and cried on his shoulder, full of fear and sadness, as if he was the last thing in the world.

Daraen was dumbstruck, but he hugged you back and tried to confort you, apologizing for what he had said. You managed to calm down after a while, and sit next to him.

"That was embarassing." you declared, feeling heat on your cheeks. You heard him chuckle.

"I'd rather have you letting it out now than exploding at the wrong moment." he gave you an understanding smile, and raised one hand and softly grabbed your face, cleaning one of your tears. You closed your eyes, unconsciously relaxing at the intimate and caring touch, and you felt a bit better.

Then you felt him getting tense. You opened your eyes, and you realized he was staring at you deeply embarrassed, as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't. The dim light of the candles was enough to see his face had become a dark shade of red that contrasted with his usual light tone. He retreated his arm fast, and looked away.

"Huh, s-sorry! I-I don't know why I did that!" he apologized.

But you hadn't mind it. Hadn't you come seeking comfort from your nightmares, after all? Wasn't that what he had just given you? You didn't understand what was he so flustered about. You grabbed his arm softly, getting closer, trying to asure him that it was fine, but for some reason your throat felt dry and you couldn't do anything but stare back. You could see his nervousness while feeling butterflies on your own stomach, but that didn't stop you.

You kissed him.

After a moment of surprise, he kissed you back. And everything became a little less scary.

* * *

The next morning you were woken up when he softy shook you before sunrise. He looked at you apologetically.

"I know it's early, sorry. But it's probably better if no one sees us in the same tent. I don't think rumours would help your... situation." he tried to say, delicately.

You sat up, still feeling tired from the day before, and not having slept enough. The little calmness you had got crushed when memories from the day before resurfaced. Your sister was dead. You were the next Exalt.

"Chrom?" you heard Daraen whispering softly, worried at your lack of reaction. You shook your head and got up. But before you got out of the tent, he grabbed your arm.

"Wait! I..." he looked shy and unsure. " I mean... about tonight... " he trailed of, and then closed his eyes, sighted, and looked at you determined. Nervous, but determined. "I love you. I been in love with you for a while" his face became red again, but he was determined to keep talking "I just wanted to tell you."

You felt your face becoming warm and your pulse accelerating. Was that love? You didn't know. You just knew he was someone you could trust no matter what, someone that would always be at your side and someone you yearned to do the same for.

"I..." you started, staring at him. There was nothing more you wanted to do in that moment but grab his hand and kiss him again, pretend that everything would be alright and you would never be separated against your will. "I love you too" you realized "but I'm the next Exalt. I have to keep the bloodline. It's my duty…" Who would have thought such word would feel so terrible?

"I know." Daraen, said quietly and smiled warmly, yet sadly "I've been thinking more of being you lover than anything official. If you agree, of course!" he rapidly added, blushing even more than before after realizing he had said that aloud. "What I mean is... I understand, it's fine. You're a prince and I'm... a man, so, yeah. But I had always had that present, and I still love you regardless. Besides, isn't a lover the one who loves, after all?"

He gave you a reasuring smile, and you felt that you could never love anyone as much as you were loving him at that moment.

* * *

With Gangrel defeated, peace came back to Ylisse. And the new Exalt had to fulfill with his duties. Your chosen wife was a noblewoman from a lesser and smaller family. Daraen himself was the one who suggested it, when he saw her in one of the first celebrations after the victory over Plegia. While at first you were bewildered by the suggestion, the reason after it was soon clear: the young maiden had a similar relationship whith her servant that the one you had with your tactician; and her parents were trying to marry her against her will to another nobleman of a higer status. Daraen had talked with the servant and thought it could be a good way to solve both problem at once. After all, what a better honor for her family than marring the Prince Exalt himself?

While the marriage wasn't born of love, it was born out of respect. It was a deal that soon became a friendship, against your own expectations. Your new wife was clever and creative, and Daraen loved talking to her about several of the endless books he was constantly reading. And you yourself discovered she was a wonderful company that knew about ruling countries better than you expected, and turned out to be an invaluable help on the matter.

You were worried about her safety when Lucina was born, and glad that everything turned out alright in the end. Little Lucina looked fragile in your arms, and Daraen refused to hold her, too scared of hurting her. You laughed at his worry, knowing full well he would be extremely careful, but didn't press him.

You grew without parents and Daraen didn't remmember his; but your daughter would grow with four of them; and that made you really happy.

* * *

You wanted to yell, to forbid him to sacrifice himself. Daraen refused to meet your eyes, looking equally pensive and scared. You wanted to grab him and force him to to promise you that he would let you defeat Grima with the Falchion, but Naga teleported all of you to the back of the Fallen Dragon before you could. You were inmediately attacked by his servants while Grima himself, the man eerily similar to Daraen, stood in front of you, watching you fight for your lives with a cruel smile.

Enemies fell before your sword and Daraen's magic, and both of you were soon close to the human form of the dragon. Grima's smile did not falter, as if he was pleased to have toys to play with before starting to destroy the world. You swung your sword and managed to hurt him. The Fell Dragon's smiled vanished, the wound made by the sword being worse and more painful than he had expected. He soon focused his efforts into destroying you and the blade, but you counterattacked relentesly, while Daraen covered you with his magic from the breath of the dragon.

Grima stepped back, badly wounded and barely able to summon more risen to fight you. You raised your sword, ready to deal the final blow when a sudden bolt of electricity hit him and pierced his flesh at a frightening speed. Grima roared and desintegrated, and the dragon body started to fall into the ocean, but your brain could barely process what had happened. You turned your head slowly and saw Daraen staring at you with an apologetic smile right before he lost all his strengh and fell. You didn't even realize most of your companions had already been teleported away while you ran towards him and cradled him in your arms. You were shaking and the knot on your throat didn't let you speak, but you must have looked heartbroken, because he smiled faintly at you.

"Sorry, Chrom" he whispered "but we all have a duty… At least I know you'll be safe."

Despite his words and his smile, you could see the sadnes and fear in his eyes. You stroked his face softly and kissed him. His body dissappeared and you felt Naga teleporting you away while the remainders of the Fallen Dragon vanished.

You had never wanted to cry as much as then.

* * *

Peace returned to the world, and Ylisse was slowly recovering from the war. The peace negociations were the hardest part, not because of the possible clauses, but because they reminded you that you would have been helped by him. But he was gone, and your chest ached.

Several months later, you saw a shooting star falling somewhere at the southern part of Ylisse. Reports from soldiers that went to investigate the possible damage strangely said that the place where it had fallen was unknown. Nothing was disturbed in the area, not a single sudden hole in the ground. You frowned at the strange information, but apparently there was nothing to investigate, so you didn't think about it too much.

A couple of weeks later, the phenomenon happened again. That time, the star's trayectory seemed to start from the other side of the world, but nevertheless it fell on the same part as the other one. The report next day was the same as the first. And then it started happening every few nights, sometimes even more than one star each night. One night, a star bigger than any other you had seen until that day fell.

That night, you dreamt of Naga. She said she had helped his fragments to not scatter too far and cleaned him completely of the cursed blood he had inherited. Then she smiled and nodded. You awoke with a jolt and run towards the window. The sun would rise soon, but you saw a strange column of light somewhere south, where the stars had fallen. The light disappeared when the first rays of the morning started to seep through the horizon. You didn't waste time to form a small group with those Shepards that rode horses.

You arrived at the right place a couple of hours before sunset. Lissa accompanied you while the rest of the Shepards searched somewhere else. It didn't take you long to spot a dark cloak on the ground. Daraen woke up when you and your sister got closer, and he gave both of you a sleepy but happy smile. You gave him your hand and helped him getting up, while your heart was hammering again your chest, of excitement, happiness. He was alive.

"Welcome back. It's over now."

That time, intertwined your hands, regardless of who could be looking, and didn't let go.

* * *

So, the dream with Naga and the stars.

Basically, Daraen/Robin's body got fragmented, and she made sure the fragments wouldn't stray too far so he could come back even if it took it very long. And about the blood, it's just that i don't think Robin would stop having Grima's blood just because it's dead, being kind of a genetic thing rather than direct possession or something like that.

It's just a small detail I thought about, so you can ignore it if you don't like it.


End file.
